


The Buzzing of a Chainsaw is Music to my Ears ~ Leatherface

by teenagelobotomyy



Category: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Movies), The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 (1986)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blood and Gore, Breeding, Cannibalism, Cannibalism Puns, Cutting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Smut, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kidnapping, Mental Breakdown, Murder, Nonverbal Communication, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Physical Abuse, Praise Kink, Reader is in a Band, Reader-Insert, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Separation Anxiety, Siblings, Social Anxiety, Texas, Triggers, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-13 01:01:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18021863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenagelobotomyy/pseuds/teenagelobotomyy
Summary: A band member runs into some mutual friends and has a dinner party... the Sawyers wanted her for dinner, all but one.STILL EDITING





	1. Music Gigs and Unexpected Dinner Guests

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place around 6 months to a year after the second movie.
> 
> I live for comments/criticism so don't be shy!

You strum away on your guitar. Sweat coating your forehead as you sing your last lines, "No one lives forever!". The song comes to a halt. The last song of the night, a cover to your dear friend Stretch. Stretch managed to get you guys on the set list for the station's seasonal concerts. Even though she no longer hosts, she got your foot in the door. "Good night," you call to the cheering audience "You've all been great!". You smile as you and your bandmates exit the stage.

After about an hour of cooling off, you decide to go to the bar and enjoy the other bands playing tonight. Pushing your way through the punks, goths, and music fans, you get to the bar. Placing your ID on the bar you yell, "A beer please!". The bartender nodded in approval and handed you a beer. The beer was cold and the water that formed on the outside refreshed your skin.

"My brother likes your music!" a thick Texan accent yells to you. You're faced with two extremely out of place characters. The one who yelled to you wore sunglasses and had an odd, wig-like hairstyle. The lights gave him a sickly green skin tone and he wore buttons advertising peace. His what you assumed brother was entirely the opposite. He was around 6'5 and wore a nice suit. He wore a mask that he may have made himself to scare people at the concert. The man's dark curly hair stuck out against the mask.

"Tell your brother I like his mask!" you yell, flashing a smile. The taller man seemed shy as he played with his fingers. He flashed a smile back to you. You found it rather sweet this guys brother was trying to introduce the two of you. "I'm Y/N. I can introduce you guys to the rest of the band if you want." you offer, you're not famous but it may bring the boy out of his shell. "You can call me Chop-Top, this is my brother Bubba." Chop-Top's voice was erratic and thick with his accent.

You lead the boys to the outdoor back area. It seemed too cold for a beer. Bubba's mask in the dim neon lights was unsettling. How odd he was wearing it and October was months away. "Bubba knew the girl on the radio," Chop-Top says, "That's why we're here. She isn't on the radio no more.". "Stretch? Oh yeah, I'm friends with her. She stopped hosting after some maniacs tried to kill her down at the station. She was traumatized, the poor girl." you tell them. You find your friends in a group, their smoke in the late August air.

"Hey guys, this is Chop-Top and Bubba." you introduce the two to the band. Everyone says their hellos and invites the three of you into their conversation. Most of the group gives the boys an odd look, questioning their way too early Halloween costumes. The small talk continues as you realize, Bubba is stepping closer to you. Bubba eventually bumps into you. You really don't mind if Bubba was anxious in social situations and if he liked you. "Hey Bubba," you say looking up to him. "I-I s-s-s..." Bubba struggles to get his words out. You figure out scared he must be. He may feel out of place, so you smile. "It's all right, Bubba. Don't worry," you say, trying to calm him down. "Say, I know a place where we can go." Chop-Top chimed.

Everything was a blur until you hear the buzz of a chainsaw. You scream as you witness your friend be cut in half, their top half stuck to a giant meat hook. Gore splatters onto the man's plastic apron. The blood and digestive track of your friend falls from their body into a bucket. A loud 'splat' sound echos off the walls. The loud buzzing stops. The man wipes his forehead. He turns to you and you recognise his homemade mask. It was Bubba. Bubba dropped the chainsaw that was drenched in blood onto the ground. He begins to babble in what sounds a bit like animal calls. He begins to step towards you. "Bubba, please! Please!" you beg.

Another voice called for Bubba. "What is all that racket?!" an older man storms down. He's holding a large stick in his hand. "What're you doin' you half-wit?! Kill this bitch!" the man yells, he then hits Bubba with the stick. Bubba whimpers an "Uh-uh n-n...". His feeble attempts turn to the babbling from before. This earns him another swift hit. "WHAT D'YA MEAN 'NO'?!"

Bubba furiously shook his head. "You wanna keep 'er? YOU CAN'T BE FALLIN' FOR THIS BITCH'S SWINDLE!" the older man's face turned cherry red from anger. Bubba's psychoblabble grew louder and faster. He continued to shake his head.

"Bring her up fer dinner." the older man said, stomping out of the room. Bubba looks to you, 'So small and pure.' he thinks. Bubba then steps over a cabinet, he then side eyes you. Bubba opens the cabinet and pulls out a 

thick rope. Panting your plea, "Bubba, please don't hurt me. Please.". Surprisingly, he didn't. Bubba was gentle with you as he tied the rope around you.

You look to his callused hands, they're covered in purple bruises and scars that lead up his sleeves. In contrast, a feminine silver bracelet is on his wrist, giving a small jingle with his movements. The rope was tight, especially around your thin wrists and ankles. Any slight move you made caused the rope to rub against your skin. Each time that happened, a small red rash would appear and beg to be scratched. Bubba then gently picked you up and slung you over his shoulder.

Bubba began to walk up the stairs, his cowboy boots seemed to boom with each step he took. His shoulder dug into your soft stomach, making the ride quite uncomfortable. Bubba slid a large metal door and walked out. After a minute of you staring at the floor and Bubba's back, you're set down on a chair. You're greeted to Chop-Top to your left and a corpse between the two of you. Chop-Top no longer had his dark hair, rather a metal plate. Chop-Top grabs the corpse's decomposing wrist and says, "Hiya.". You scream at the sight, reality snapping into you. You look to your right and find Bubba, he took off his apron so he would be presentable. Bubba's psychoblabble starts as he tries to calm you down. Your voicebox runs dry and you give up. The older man from earlier walks in, rolling a wheelchair. Another corpse.

"Ya quit screamin' or you're barbecue." the man says, he looks to you and gives a grey-toothed grin "We haven't introduced ourselves. I'm Drayton. We may as well since Bubba likes you so much. Lucky you." Drayton acts as if you're a regular dinner guest and you're not tied to a chair. Drayton leaves the room once more, leaving you with the two boys and corpses. Part of you couldn't believe this, you thought murderers were just pranksters. You thought Bubba was just a shy boy that went out with his brother to give people a scare. You were wrong, he sliced your friend open with a chainsaw. Drayton enters the room, carrying a platter in one hand and stack of plates in another.

Drayton sets everything down. "Well, ya see here missy," he starts as he sits in his chair next to Bubba, "Bubba likes you.". Drayton turns to his younger brother, "And if he doesn't take care of you, he ain't allowed to like you no more.".

By now, everyone has food on their plate. Bubba places a plate with sausages and beans on them. He then scoots his chair closer to you. Bubba grabs an old fork and sticks one of the sausages on it. He brings it up to your lips and you refuse. He whines at your refusal, giving a look of a plea. After thinking of the consequence of not eating, you take a bite. Barely chewing, you sallow. The taste was odd and unfamiliar. "Excuse me, is this beef?" you pipe up.

"Best meat in Texas. We sure fought to get it." Drayton replies. This causes Chop-Top to cackle, knocking the corpse next him over. Drayton's answer made you queasy.

The rest of dinner was quiet. Bubba continued to feed you as Chop-Top waved the mangled corpse's hand at you. "Best it's time for bed for you," Drayton says, giving a cold glare. Bubba stood up and put you over his shoulder again.

After watching a flight of stairs roll by, you hit a mattress. Bubba sits you up and unwraps the thick rope from before. There are pale red marks formed around your ankles and wrists. Bubba takes the rope and leaves the room. You're too tired to run. You allow your body to fall into the mess of sheets. You curl into a fetal position and deeply inhale, smelling copper and masculine musk. There were three loud bangs and yelling. Suddenly, someone walks up the stairs. The door of the room creaked open, then closed.

Turn to see Bubba, sobbing. His hand rubbing against his opposite arm. "Bubba?" you call to him. He turns and paces to you wrapping his arms around. "Uhm, what's wrong?" you ask, unsure of what to do. Bubba pulls his sleeves up and reveals bruises and cuts. The scars you noticed went up his muscular arms. You run your finger against a scar and say, "It's okay, I won't hurt you.". Bubba gives a look of sadness and fear, eyes puffy and red. "Promise," you say, giving him a small smile.

Bubba suddenly grabs you and lays you next to him. His arms wrapped around you, cooing softly. The masculine musk fills your nose again. Shutting your eyes, you silently pray you get out alive.


	2. I'm Always by Your Side and in the Corner of Your Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes graphic detail in dealing and committing self harm. If you or someone you know is struggling with self harm of any kind, please get immediate help. I must warn that this may trigger you. Please read at your own risk. There will be a warning before the scene.

Your eyes open with a sting. Your head rests in the crook of Bubba's neck as you look across the room to find the window. The sky was a pale blue along the edges and the sun was peeking over the horizon. Bubba still held you in his arms, it was way too close for comfort. Your chest was squished against his, his chubbier stomach poked into yours. Although you seem about his height now, his legs extended to the end of the bed. You struggle against his grip, straining slightly. His leathery mask brushes against your face as you wiggle. That's when you realize, his mask was skin. It belonged to a human, not a cow. That sick feeling punches your gut again.  You strain once again, wanting to escape his tight grip. This causes his eyes to flutter open. With a tired grunt, he lets go of you. You pull yourself away from him to get your own space. You begin to focus on his features under his mask. His round brown eyes and plump, chapped lips were the only things that stuck out to you. Bubba yawns, snapping your gaze away from him. "Uhm, good morning." your tone implies you're unsure of how to react. Bubba blabbles what you can only assume was a greeting back. Your stomach rumbles, making you feel uneasy. Nausea kicks in and you're sure of what comes next. "Can I use your bathroom?" you ask, hoping he'd let you go.

Bubba nods and sits up. You follow and hop off the bed, accidentally kicking his boots. Bubba grabs your hand and leads you to the hall. You take in the decor, Christmas lights and small animal bones. Bubba pushes a door open and leads you in. The bathroom was average sized, but filthy. You could say the porcelain was no longer it's soft white. Bubba was clearly unsure of what to do. He looked at you, the door, back at you. After a few incoherent conversations with himself, he closed the door about half way. The open half of the door was covered by Bubba. Stomach acid builds up in your throat. You quickly lift the toilet lid and begin retching into the bowl. Whatever they gave you made you sick. You continue to throw up as you het Bubba quickly walk behind you. Bubba was clearly never dealt with something like this. He kneels to your level and rubs small circles along your back, occasionally patting it. Bubba began blabbling, clearly concerned. 

Once you finish and flush the toilet, Bubba grabs you. He pulls you in, cooing for you to feel well. He seemed to hope his soft sounds were a cure. Bubba begins to stand you up, allowing you to rest against him. "Bubba, I need water." you say, your throat stings from your words. Bubba walks you out of the bathroom, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. You're sat on the counter as Bubba grabs a glass and fills it up from the tap. Bubba hands you the water. Not questioning how sanitary the glass is, you quickly gulp down the water.

You finish the water quickly, handing the glass back to Bubba. Even though he was your captor, he deserved some kindness. He clearly didn't have much. "Thank you." you say softly, giving Bubba a small smile. Bubba smiles shyly and takes the glass, placing it on the drying rack next to the sink. He wraps his arms around your waist, taking you off the counter. Bubba then lays you back on both arms. He carries you bridal style back up to his room. 

The first thing you notice once you're back in Bubba's room was the sun beginning to shine in. It gave a warm glow as it reflected off the dingy, white walls. Bubba sits you back on the bed, making sure you were laying down. Bubba sits on the bed and pulls on the leather boots you knocked over earlier. He then scrambles up to find his tie and buttons up the top two buttons of his dress shirt. You don't exactly remember him removing these items. It was clear he did it as the night progressed, rather before sleeping.

 Bubba left the room after he dressed, making sure he's closed the door.  The odd basement like house seemed to come alive. Everyone was now awake. The place seemed so dark with the lights and mostly boarded up windows. The place surely  confused you, you weren't entirely sure is this was a house, tower, or something. You got up from the bed and walk to the window across the room.  You stand at the window, looking out. The scenery was odd. There were skeletons of what looked like a carnival. The rides were brown and red with rust, and the cheery fun of the place had died out a long time ago. The door creaked open behind you, boots step against the floor. You turn to find Bubba, holding the thick rope again.  You sigh and raise your hands out to Bubba, knowing the drill. Bubba walks to you, he then softly grips your wrist. Bubba ties the rope around your tiny wrists with an apologetic look. He picks you up bridal style once more.  

 After a short trip, you're greeted to a familiar table. The brothers and corpses were enjoying a hearty meal of eggs and "bacon". As Bubba spoon fed you, the corpse in the wheelchair moved. The sight chilled you. God, how long was that thing alive for? Bubba offered the bacon. You shook your head, you knew it was something in that meat that made you sick. You felt it in your gut, literally. 

After breakfast you sat quietly in Bubba's room. Alone. At least the rope no longer binded your wrists together. It was silent unil, "GOD DAMMIT SHE WAS SICK!". The voice rang out through the building. Bubba's babble could be heard in response.

Insults were thrown at Bubba, causing his psychoblabble to speed up. You cringe. It wasn't Bubba's fault you had vomited. It was mostly your own, and guilt built up in your stomach. You stomp to the door, then tug at the the handle. It's locked. Shit. Bubba's babbling is easily heard through the walls. Drayton yells, "You worthless-!". His sentence is interrupted with a loud whack, following a low whine. Bubba's familiar steps begin to his bedroom door. You quickly step back.

(TRIGGER WARNING!)

Bubba opens his door, eyes looking to the floor. You look at him wide eyed, lips parted. You wanted to say something, but your mind began to go blank. What were you to say? Were you to say anything at all? Bubba closes the door, paying no attention to you. He walks across the room to an old dresser that sits cozy next to the window. Bubba opens the top drawer and begins to rummage through it. As he looks through is drawer, fear began to ball up in your chest. Was he going to kill you? Bubba find the item. A small pocket knife. He turns away from you with the knife. Uneasy about his intention, you call out "Bubba?". Bubba ignores you, he's much too invested in what he's doing. You slowly approach him, "Bubba, are you okay?". You finally see what he's doing. Bubba draws a line with the knife's blade along his arm. Blood slowly follows in a red line. Crimson dribbles down Bubba's arm and onto his sleeve. As he bring the blade to his arm again, you yell "Bubba!". You run to him and place yourself infront of him. You grab his open hand gently. "Bubba, stop." your voice became lower, more gentle. Bubba snaps out of it and meets your eyes with his.

"You can't do this, Bubba." you say, using your free hand to grab the knife. You place the knife onto the dresser. Looking around, you find one of Bubba's ties. You quickly grab it from the floor and wrap it around Bubba's wound. "I'm sorry Bubba, none of this is your fault. It's mine. I got sick, you didn't. You helped me. You didn't deserve what Drayton did, you deserve praise for it." you say, looking into Bubba's dark eyes. Bubba didn't respond, only looked back. You decide to lighten the mood a bit. "Want to see what my mother did when I got hurt?" you ask. Bubba nods. You kiss the bandaged wound, only a small peck gave you waves of nostalgia. You smile to Bubba and giggle a bit. You know it's silly. Bubba begins to giggle with you. After the shared moment, you're pulled into Bubba's bone crushing hug. To your own and Bubba's surprise, you hugged back. After the sweet moment, Bubba leaves the room. There was nothing in the room that was any use to you. 

You pass the hours by sleeping. The bed was oddly comforting because of the scent that masks the sheets. Before you knew it, you were carried downstairs. Dinner was barbecue and beans. Hesitant to eat the food, you stuck to the beans. Dinner was silent, until Bubba stands up and grabs your bound hands.

Bubba walks you outside, the sun has set and the stars were out. You breathe in, the cool late August air is refreshing. Bubba grabs your bound hands and leads you past a few of the rusted rides. The place had an eerie feeling. It seemed to squash the fun you had at carnivals as a kid looking around this place. Part of you wondered why Bubba and his family would stay in a place like this. The tower like building you and Bubba emerged from was growing smaller. Bubba walks you in between two of the rides. He lets go of your hands and takes his blazer off, setting it on the ground. Bubba grabs you and pulls you to sit on the blazer. "Are you sure Bubba? I don't want to ruin it." you ask, knowing it was dirty already but wanting Bubba to continue wearing it comfortably. Bubba nods and murmurs something. You give in and sit down. The taller form sits on the sandy ground next to you, giving you the blazer.  You look to Bubba, giving him a small smile. "Why are we here?" you ask, a bit puzzled. You were a captive. Why is he allowing you to be outside like this?  Bubba smiles back, but with a sad look in his eyes.  He takes your hands once more. The ropes begin to untie.

Bubba throws the rope to the side, then to put a finger over his lips. "Our little secret." his action suggests. Bubba then falls onto his back and looks up into the stars. He points to a group of stars and murmurs something about it. You lay back as well, feeling the satin against your skin. The sky was clear, the stars were fully visible. The tint of blue and purple were prominent, and the stars stood out. The tiny balls of lights reminded you of the Christmas lights that decorated Bubba's home. The wind began to pick up, tickling your skin. The brush gives you goosebumps. Sometimes you forget the Texas heat at night evaporates. You find yourself scooting closer to him. Bubba was like a human heating system. How does he survive in a mask and blazer in the day? Bubba allowed you the closeness, enjoying that you'd willingly be so close.  

The two of you sat there for hours, every now and then Bubba would get excited to find a constellation. But, he mostly listened to you talk. You told him about music and how much stress it was. You spoke to him about school experiences, your family, and the meals that didn't contain human. Bubba sits up and stretches. You follow, getting on your feet. You pick up Bubba's blazer and put it on. Bubba watches with wide eyes, confused. He blabbled in a confused tone. Bubba stood up and grabbed the rope. You outstretch your hands, allowing him to tie them. He shakes his head and begins to walk. You walk next to him, shoving your hands into the blazer pockets. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bruh this took so long, and I gotta edit it  
> I really appreciate the support! Thank you omg <3


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